You Were Already loved Miles
by SailorToni
Summary: After years of depression, pain, and suffering. Miles Edgeworth is accepting of his eventual death due to the magical curse place upon him all those years ago. But when he finds a strange man and child living in the ruins of his cursed castle, Miles is forced to confront years of abuse and learn to live again. Beauty and the Beast AU
1. At the bottom of the well

h3 id="work" class="landmark heading"Chapter Text/h3  
p dir="ltr" align="left"The castle's walls screamed around him. It's agonizing groans echoed through its grand and lavish halls; it had once been a center of both beauty and greed, but were now a monument of its Master's failure. Its halls joined him in its dust infested rooms. The walls weaving around the towers creating a maze of painful memories, with its cracked portraits and ghostly servants leading one to the castle's crowning, its single miserable jewel. It's former Master. /p  
p dir="ltr" align="left"Transformed into a mess of fur and horns, with teeth as sharp as the icy windows of the north, but wearing a visage of horrid death. The Master now slumped by a series of grand windows and torn moldy curtains. The dark skies hiding his ruined clothes, sagging eyes, and limp limbs./p  
p dir="ltr" align="left"He watched as the moon made it slow descent across the sky, the clouds carrying it away from sight. A glossy jewel studded mirror hung within his cracked claws. Casting a bright orange light at the monster foot. It's glossy reflection, glazed over with the hazy image of the sun-kissed town, full of average looking people bustling and bustling down the street, as brown clay roofs became sheets of warmth from the morning sun. Laughter and merriment whispered around the mirror's edges. The hazy image fading into a clear reflection. A mess of fur and horns crying into broken hands./p  
p dir="ltr" align="left"The monster threw the mirror. Its sterling silver case was ever silent, as it floated down and settled on the floor. The sun-kissed town went about its day, like each one before, without a care nor a soul to notice the sinking feeling of one who has been stalked. No. it was like any other day. And like any other day, the Beast sulk to his bed, tears lost in his fur, to his bed letting the broken, melody of his own sobs rock him to sleep. /p 


	2. The Music Box Has Only One Song

The Monster woke up hours later, the morning sun blaring through the curtains, blinding him. He tried to ignore it, twisting around in his sheets. There was no use waking up, there was nothing waiting for someone like him. But the day time came to him anyways, in the form of a happy candelabra. Her high pitch voice breaking through to him.

"Morning Master! how are we today! Doing good, I hope! I had the chef cook up some French toast this morning. Not the most elaborate dish, but I'm sure it's just a sweet!" her voice chimed like church bells.

"Go away," the Master moaned.

"It's a beautiful day! The birds are singing, the sun is up, and the day is full of potential! Besides Master, it's not good to be wrapped up in bed all day. Least you get more bed sores."

"I said go away. I have no desire to leave my room today." The candelabra motioned to speak "No! I am not sick! I wish to do nothing today," he finished.

"That's not a healthy tone to take Master. While it may feel safer to stay in bed, it's not good for one sanity!" her metal foot clanging on the hard floor. "Here let's open up these curtains and just take a breath of fresh air"

"Athena if you open those windows, I will throw you off the balcony. do not test my patience today." The candelabra was quiet, she closed the curtain and ushered the cart of food towards his bed.

"Would you like anything else my master?"

"No thank you Athena.'

"Of course,"

She hopped away closing the door behind her.

Hours later the beast awoke again, his eyes groggy with sleep, his horrifying elongated goat legs stretched out past the end of the bed. He pulled himself up to the cold tray of food, another dish of hot food had been placed next to the soggy french toast, but that too had gone cold.

Long ago the beast would have tried to shove the food into his mouth using the proper utensils, but this was a fool's task. Instead he pressed the plate to his mouth and scooped the syrup and toast past his fangs. It was unpleasant, but If he didn't eat Gumshoe would try to shove himself through the door and scream at him again. The blundering fool, disobeying his orders, marking up the floors with his wooden feet. He was a nightmare to deal with. Miles couldn't stand that look of pity in his painted eyes.

Moving out of the bed, made his way to the bathroom decorated in the finest polished bronze. The room had begun to turn a nice shade of green from the years of use. He didn't mind, it wasn't going to be used for much longer.

The bathroom mirror, a fine thing that had costed him a great deal of gold, had of course been shattered. He cured himself, his grey hair catching in the reflection.

Once there was a prince, who was handsome, smart, and ruthless. Ruling his lands with absolute law and order. He once lived in a place made from gold, the walls would gleam like mines in the summer sun. Once there was a prince who had all anyone would want.

But then the Man came.

Moving from the fine mosaics of the bathroom the beast return to his bed. The frame broken by his body. The sheets stained and ripped from the terrors.

The Man came and requested a fine room for the night. His plagued skin and hollow eyes looked up at the prince, a sense of smugness and cruelty skimmed around the corners of his mask, as a single rose was brought forward from his tattered cloak. Their petals were as soft as the greatest silk, its color brighter than any blood. It glowed in its own vanity.

The Beast tossed in his bed, the memories haunting him like a music box. The same melody playing over and over, trapped, confined, and unrelenting within his own mind.

The Prince rejected the rose, and rejected the Man. Not once, not twice, but three times. His guards dragged the Man back the winter storm outside. The cold winds lashing around the golden halls, bringing its stinging cold pain to the Prince's fair skin.

But, when he reached the door, the Man exploded into a bright purple light, his age, and rags flew off his body, replaced with flowing white robes, and long curly blond hair. His eyes, now full of life, and glowing with energy bore holes into the Prince's skin. As if the Man could see into the Prince's very soul. His smile crack along his face in an almost playful. He gave a wave, sending all of the guards to columns that lined the great hall, their bodies melting into the pillars until all the flesh had merged into stone. Leaving behind their screaming faces.

The memory tasted like dirt in his mouth. The revolting scent of skin blending into stone swirled upon his taste buds and nostrils. Shivers washed upon his skin and a cold came upon him, that penetrated his deep into fur.

Anyone that tried to stop her, anyone that tried to run, joined the initial guards. The pillars dragging their bodies to them like magnets. His own body refused to move, stuck in that spot. Shaking. Even now he shook. Those who stayed back, and watched as the Man spoke, were given worse fates. Their bodies fusing with objects nearest to them. The prince had never smelled burning hair nor skin before. It was a sensation that made him gag. Even now, as he sat in his bed, he gagged.

"How cruel you are my Prince." The Man's voice cutting through the smoke and screams. "To toss a poor man out into the cold. I see now that they were right about you." He flowed like water through the air. His long robes bellowing around him as he, came to him. His feet never touching the ground. His hands lifted his chin, breaking him of his stupor.

"W-what do you-"

"Silence Miles." His body rose above him. The golden light of the hall replaced with his own light. "I have never met a man as cruel, as ungrateful, and as horrendous as you are. For you have anything a man could want, and to still be as demonic as you are? How pitiful. For this I will make your outside appearance match your inside."

The Monster's claws dipped into his mattress as the night brought about his mistakes. The memories coming in and out of his thoughts, like music box repeating its short melody. His final words had been burned into his mind, and upon the Monster's very soul.  
_"For who could ever love a beast?"_

A mirror, this one while glorious in its polished frame, lay broken and shattered at the base of the room. Shreds of canvas joined the shards as several portraits now ruined and torn lay at the Monster's feet. Their wooden framed splintered, as through they had been rammed through the mirror.


End file.
